A Lack of Color
by Klainey
Summary: "This is fact not fiction, for the first time in years." No matter how badly you want it to be otherwise...
1. Chapter 1

A Lack of Color

(song: A Lack of Color - Death Cab for Cutie)

Blaine picked up his guitar. It had been so long since he had played, let alone, sung. He began idly strumming the instrument. Slowly a melody seemed to form through all the random notes.

Softly he began singing the words.

_**And when I see you**_

_**I really see you upside down**_

He thought of all the times he and Kurt would go to the park to play on the monkey bars, ignoring the disapproving glares of soccer moms. They had fun, and even though they knew the people around them didn't want them to. He had seen Kurt upside down, with a wide grin on his face.

He smiled a little at himself.

_**But my brain knows better**_

_**It picks you up and turns you around**_

_**Turns you around, turns you around**_

They had danced all night at Kurt's Junior Prom, even with the Prom queen hysterics. It had been great, just carelessly having fun to the beat of ABBA. He remembered it being perfect, with just the right amount of awkward. They had turned around and around until they fell into each other's arms, dizzy and breathless.

_**If you feel discouraged**_

_**That there's a lack of color here**_

Glasz. That was the color his eyes were. Sometimes they changed color though. They were bluer when he was happy. More green-ish when he was mad.

But they were a soft, pale grey when he cried, as if the sadness took away all their color. He'd seen it too many times…

_**Please don't worry lover**_

_**It's really bursting at the seems**_

He stopped playing for a second and smiled bitterly.

Please don't worry, lover.

He snorted. Please don't worry. The words suddenly seemed so crude right now. As if he had anything left worth worrying about. His life wasn't bursting at the seems anymore. It had been ripped to shreds a while ago actually. Three years, four months and two weeks ago, to be exact.

_**From absorbing everything**_

_**The spectrum's a to z**_

They had talked about it. When they would get married, they would have their names in alphabetical order. Kurt Anderson-Hummel. Never happened of course. Although, he was the first to get his invitation to his wedding, since Anderson was at the top of the list. Kurt Bricker-Hummel. What kind of name was that anyways?

He stopped playing again, but this time to take a big swig from his fifth beer that evening. Or his sixth, he'd lost count somewhere around the third.

_**This fact not fiction**_

_**For the first time in years**_

He wiped angrily at the tears forming in his eyes. He remembered when it had first hit him. He came home about a week after the fight. He came home and almost shouted out: Honey, I'm home! Like in the old movies, like he did everyday, just to hear that little chuckle coming from the kitchen or wherever he was.

Except there was nobody to laugh at his ridiculousness. Suddenly, it became very real. He didn't want it to be real. He just wanted to wake up from this horrible nightmare. He would just wake up next to him and later they would laugh at the thought of ever marrying someone other than the person sitting across the table.  
>But he didn't wake up. Because it was real.<p>

The words caught in his throat.

_**And all the girls in every girlie magazine **_

_**Can't make me feel any less alone**_

He had tried it, you know. Every night, he would go to a bar, and every night there would be someone offering to buy him a drink. And another drink, and another. And after that he would just take a cab to the other mans appartement, and he'd try to sneak out the next morning before the other guy woke up. He never refused another drink. The alcohol numbed his senses. When he was drunk, he didn't feel the pain in his heart. He didn't feel the way his stomach seemed to tie itself into a knot everytime he saw Kurt on another Broadway show.

_**I'm reaching for the phone**_

_**To call at 7:03 **_

_**And on your machine I slur a plea for you to come home**_

_K-Kurt? _

_It's Blaine._

_Look, I-I really really miss you, s-so just come home already, 'kay?_

_I know I've s-said some t-things I shouldn't have, but I still love you._

_I will a-always love yo-you. _

_Okay, I'm kinda dr-drunk now so I'll hang up the phone. _

…

_I'm cold Kurtie. _

_C-can't you come back to make me warm again? _

_You always make the b-best hot chocolate, you know Kurtie? _

_The one with th-with the little ma-marshmallows? _

_The kitchen is dirty too, Kurtie. Because you always clean. But I don't. Huh. Dirty Kurtie. _

_Hahahahahah! That rhymes_

_...But I still miss you. Will you come back? Please, Kurt? _

_Okay, I-I'll go now. _

_I l-lo-love you, Kurt…_

_**But i know it's too late **_

_**I should have given you a reason to stay**_

Fragments from that night flashed through his mind.

"…_And you with your stupid fashion always! You don't even have time for me anymore! Do you fucking even want to spend time with me?"_

_**Given you a reason to stay **_

"_Hell, I'm pretty fucking sure that Elliot guy at your office is just waiting for you to break up with me so he can fuck you up against those fucking studio walls of his!"_

_**Given you a reason to stay**_

"_Maybe that's what we need. A little time alone, so we can sort this shit out. Maybe it's better I break up with you right now, so I don't keep you from getting all the attention you deserve!" _

_**Given you a reason to stay…**_

"_Blaine…"_

"_No, Kurt, just go, I can't see your face right now…"_

"_Blaine…"_

All his desperation, anger, sadness, disappointment was in that little word.

'Blaine'

He stopped playing, put his head in his hands and let his tears flow.

Small drops of salty water dripped down and made little stains onto the letter lying in front of him on the coffee table.

'Kurt Hummel and Elliot Bricker

Invite you at their wedding.'

_**This is fact not fiction**_

_**For the first time in years**_

No matter how badly you don't want it to be…


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I WILL PROBABLY NOT BE ABLE TO UPDATE FOR ABOUT TWO WEEKS BECAUSE I'LL BE ON VACATION.

And remember, reviews are love.

(Song: Many of Horror – Biffy Clyro)

He woke up with the taste of cheap beer and cigarettes in his mouth and the feeling that someone was continuously hitting him in the head with a broken glass bottle. He grumbled something and turned around to cover his head with the pillow next to him. Except there was someone on said pillow. Someone he didn't quite remember inviting to said pillow.

_Fuck._

Slowly he opened his eyes, but the sun still hurt like a bitch.

Right. He had been drinking last night. But why… that was when he saw the invitation lying on the floor, crumpled up and half hidden underneath his–or the other guy's–shirt.

He didn't have the courage to get up and have the awkward get-out-of-my-bedtalk. So he did what he always did. He closed his eyes and turned around, burying his face in his pillows.

When he woke up, the other guy, still nameless, was gone. Luckily.

With a deep sigh he got up. Immediately his stomach protested and he just made it to the bathroom before he spat everything out.

He did _not_ want to go anywhere today. But the only thing left in his fridge was another six-pack of Bud Light, so he really had to go grocery shopping.

He took a hot shower and while he let the hot water wash his worries away, he thought of the invitation. He got out, dressed and went looking for the small piece of off-white parchment.

He looked at it:

Kurt Hummel & Elliot Bricker

Invite you at their wedding.

With it crumpled up in his fist he tried to swallow the lump that was suddenly forming in his throat.

No.

He wouldn't cry. He couldn't cry. He'd already cried too much. He bit his lower lip so hard he drew blood. Blaine Anderson would not cry over a man who he himself broke up with over three years ago. Not over a decision he made three years ago.

Even if it was the worst decision he had ever made in his entire life.

But regret is always too late.

* * *

><p>At around 6 pm he made his way to the small coffee shop where he would play to get the money he needed badly to pay the rent. It was a good day, it snowed outside, the kind of snow that makes your tears freeze halfway your cheeks, so people were more likely to stop by and listen to his songs while drinking their coffee.<p>

As he arrives he doesn't notice the slender figure sitting in the back, sipping his mocha with an engagement ring on his long, pale finger.

Without saying or doing anything but giving a small nod to the barista, he makes his way to the small stage set up for him.

As he begins singing the man in the back looks up from where he was staring at his coffee cup.

_You say, "I love you, boy"_

_I know you lie_

_I trust you all the same_

_I don't know why_

He sings more to himself than to the people over-crowding the small place.

_'Cos when my back is turned_

_My bruises shine_

_Our broken fairytale_

_So hard to hide_

The scent of fresh coffee brings back memories of long forgotten coffee dates before school. The memories of non-fat mocha's and medium drips. The memories of feeding eachother pieces of those ridiculous valentine cookies, while laughing at the silliness of it all. Memories with the smell of coffee and Vanilla. Memories of kisses that tasted like mocha. Would they still…?

_I still believe_

_It's you and me till the end of time_

It's true. He does still believe it. He just doesn't believe it's ever going to happen again. He had his chance and he blew it.  
>When he looks up to look at the people in the small room, so does the man at the table in the back. Glasz meets hazel and for a moment neither dares to breathe. But Blaine looks away. It's too late anyway.<p>

_When we collide we come together_

_If we don't we'll always be apart_

_I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it_

_When you hit me, hit me hard_

_Sitting in a wishing hall_

_Hoping it stays right_

_Feet cast in solid stone_

_I got Gilligan's eyes_

He lets the memories flood his brain, while tears slowly run down his cheeks, unnoticed by the customers, who are all too busy with their own problems. Except for one. One customer in the very back, staring into his coffee cup, glasz eyes suddenly light grey.

_I still believe_

_It's you and me till the end of time_

One silent tear falls into his coffee cup. He hadn't even noticed he was crying. He twists the ring around his finger, thinking how it would have looked if it was by the man he actually loves, letting memories flood _his_ mind, too. On the other side of the coffee shop Blaine just keeps on playing, tears slowly making their way down his face, onto his guitar.

_'Cos you said our love_

_Is letting us go, guess what_

_Our future is for_

_Many of horror_

_Our future's for_

_Many of horror_

He gets up and goes outside, unable to handle the weight of the memories pressing on his shoulders. He leaves behind a half empty coffee cup with the name Kurt scribbled on it and the faint smell of Vanilla.

_I still believe_

_It's you and me till the end of time…_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'll try to update as soon as I can, but I don't know when I'll have Internet connection. **

**And remember, reviews are love. **

(Song: Vanilla Twilight – Owl City)

The door slammed close, sending a blast of cold winter air inside, making Blaine shiver. He wiped his tears away, put on a fake smile and looked around at the people in the small coffee shop.

He saw people who looked like they just stepped out of GQ or Vogue. He saw people who looked like they had never read or even seen a Vogue. He saw people who looked like they were buried in troubles and people who looked like the only problems in their live were what to wear and which shoes to combine with that.

It's strange how, in such a small room, all those people could just come and escape the cold, harsh outside world for a while and just savor the warmth of the liquid in the cup in front of them.

It was the reason he loved coffee shops.

And at the same time, the reason he hated them.

* * *

><p>The door slammed close, sending a blast of cold winter air inside, making Kurt suddenly notice how cold it was outside. He touched his cheeks and noticed that his tears were frozen halfway. They started to melt already, so he wiped them away, put on a fake smile and looked around his apartment to see his boyfriend, no, his <em>fiancé <em>coming out of the kitchen.

"Hey babe! I didn't expect you back so soon!"

Elliot came walking over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

"Yeah, I…"

How do you tell your fiancé you ran into your ex and just spent an hour walking through the city trying to find a place that didn't remind him of Blaine?

"Just had a rough day I guess."

"Do you need anything?"

"No, just… Just some time alone. I need to maybe rethink some stuff…"

Elliot's face fell a little, but he nodded.

He all but ran into the bedroom, locked the door and turned around.

He walked to the bottom drawer of his closet and takes out a picture frame. It's a picture of Blaine, still in his Dalton uniform, smiling dapperly at the camera. Right underneath the picture, spelled with letters ripped out of his precious magazines was the word. Their word.

_COURAGE._

* * *

><p>It was already late that night when he came home. It had been a good day, lots of tips, one lady even asking him to come and sing on a wedding or something. He just took her card. He didn't really care, he probably wouldn't even go. He took a beer out of the fridge and sat himself on the couch. He looked out the window and just sat there for a while, looking at the people coming, going, stepping into cabs, talking on the phone.<p>

He wondered how it was possible to feel so utterly alone surrounded by so many people.

He went to bed only shortly after midnight, but he couldn't sleep, so he got back up and took his guitar out.

Even though he had played all night and his fingers were raw and painful but he kept playing, strumming the strings until a melody formed itself and he began to sing absentmindedly.

**The stars lean down to kiss you**

**And I lie awake and miss you**

**Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere**

He skipped a little piece of the lyrics because of the alcohol and the memories flooding his mind and pushing the importance of lyrics to the back of his consciousness.

He'd seen him today. At the coffee shop. Just like the old times.

Except it was nothing like it.

**I'll watch the night turn light blue**

**But it's not the same without you**

**Because it takes two to whisper quietly**

* * *

><p>At the other side of New York Kurt finally looked up from his pillow. He had taken his decision. He sat up and looked out the window. He saw the hectic movements and lights of Times Square and wondered how it was possible to feel so alone surrounded by so many people.<p>

**The silence isn't so bad**

**'Till I look at my hands and feel sad**

**'Cause the spaces between my fingers**

**Are right where yours fit perfectly**

It had been so long since Blaine had actually held anyone's hand. Sure, he had slept around enough to forget him, but it had never lead to anything permanent. And even if it had, he probably wouldn't have thought it was worth holding hands. None of those hands would ever fit his anyway, the way Kurt's had.

**I'll find repose in new ways**

**Though I haven't slept in two days**

**'Cause cold nostalgia**

**Chills me to the bone**

Just like waking up in a bed, alone did, without the warmth of another body pressed against his.

All alone in too big a bed, too big an apartment for one.

All alone in a life that's meant for two.

**But drenched in vanilla twilight**

**I'll sit on the front porch all night**

**Waist-deep in thought because**

**When I think of you I don't feel so alone**

He stopped playing to take a big gulp of beer and wipe away the tears from his eyes again. What's with all the crying today? Like, is it regret your stupid decision from three years ago day or something? Because if it isn't, they should probably make it that right now.

**I don't feel so alone, **

**I don't feel so alone**

_Fuck this shit. _

_He will always feel fucking alone when Kurt is with that Elliot kid. _

By now he knows he's been stupid, okay?

Dear Life, could you please stop rubbing it in my face?

Dear every song, could you please not remind me of my ex who is about to marry someone else?

**As many times as I blink**

**I'll think of you tonight**

**I'll think of you tonight**

...Dear ex, could you please not marry someone else?

**When violet eyes get brighter**

**And heavy wings grow lighter**

**I'll taste the sky and feel alive again**

His voice breaks on the last note and for the umpteenth time that night, he is reduced to a sobbing, pathetic little pile of human.

Because he doesn't think he'll ever feel alive again. Not with Kurt crying because of him. Not with Kurt marrying someone else. Not with Kurt gone from his life.

Not with Kurt being happy with someone else…

**Oh darling, I wish you were here…**

He cries himself asleep that night, just like the night before.

And the night before that.

And the night before…

And all the nights since he let Kurt go three years, five months, three weeks and two days ago.

_But who's counting?_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:I'll update as soon as I can but I can't promise anything for a few days because I'll work on Peacock for a while but I was in an angsty mood today so… here you go **

(Song: Need You Now – Lady Antebellum)

A soft knock on the door woke him up, followed by the screech of a door that badly needed some oil.

"Kurt? Are you okay?"

It was only then that Kurt noticed he had fallen asleep with the picture of Blaine hugged to his chest. He quickly shoved it under his pillow.

Courage, he thought to himself.

"No, Elliot, actually, I'm not. I think we should have thought a little bit more before deciding to get married."

"But Kurt…"

He gestured with his hand to cut him off. He just needed to get this off his chest.

"Elliot, we've been together for only three years. That's long enough to really get to know eachother, but I don't know if it's enough to already make such a big commitment… I mean, I love you and you know that, but marriage? We're happy just the way we are now, aren't we?"

Elliot got a weird look on his face, like disappointment mixed with anger.

"Kurt, I love you more than anything and you know that, but I still have the feeling you're not telling me something here.

"…I ran into Blaine yesterday."

"Blaine? Your ex who dumped you because he thought you spent too much time at the atelier with me? The stupid faggot who broke up with you because you didn't give him enough attention? What the hell, Kurt?"

Kurt cringes at the description, even though that was how he had described Blaine to Elliot, and the two had never met. He regretted putting him in such a bad daylight because it would make what followed that much harder to grasp.

"I don't think I'm ready to marry someone just yet."

"What?"

Elliot's face turned from confused to sad to angry in the span of a few milliseconds, but that made it even more frightening.

"What the fuck Kurt, I thought we talked about this! You said you were done with him!"

"I am, but he played this song and he saw me and-"

"Save it for someone who might believe you, Kurt. I thought you said you were completely over him before you even started to date me? So you lied to me?"

"No, but-"

It's only then that Elliot notices the framed picture of Blaine on the floor on Kurt's side of the bed. He walks around the bed and picks it up, holding it with one hand while his eyes slowly scan over the picture.

"And who the fuck might this be if I may ask?"

Courage, he thinks.

"That's Blaine."

Elliot looks like he's going to cry for a second, but then, with a roar he throws the picture into the wall right next to Kurt's head, sending a million pieces of broken glass flying all over the room. Kurt looks shocked, his hand coming up to cover his mouth, trembling all over his body, while his eyes seem to grow even bigger than they already are when they turn light grey.

With a low growl Elliot is suddenly right before Kurt.

He looks into his eyes and two rough hands grip his face and pull it to his own for a lip-bruising kiss. Elliot's hands roam all over Kurt's body and he can taste the alcohol on his lips.

Suddenly he is seventeen again, pressed against the lockers with the heavy body of the one person who made his life a living hell pressed against his, his lips on Kurt's, his tongue thrusting into Kurt's mouth, also tasting like alcohol. The air was sated with the odor of sweaty teenagers, male shower gel and desperation.

Kurt closed his eyes and with all the strength he can muster he pushes Elliot off him, looking at him with his pale eyes wide open, tears flowing on his cheeks without a sound.

Without another word he turns around and runs out of the apartment, away from Elliot, away from Karofsky, away from all the bad memories.

With a loud rumble the sky breaks open and the cold rain soaks Kurt to the bone but he hardly feels it with the adrenaline of what just happened still rushing through his body. He didn't take anything with him when he stormed out of the apartment but his phone.

He has got nowhere to go…

He keeps running until he no longer recognizes any of the buildings and street names.

People rush by, not even batting an eye as the rain mixes with the tears on his cheeks. He slumps against the nearest wall, slowly sliding down until he hits the pavement. At a moment like this he just doesn't care about Marc Jacobs.

A few streets away Blaine is all but done with his shift at the coffee shop. Like every night, he sings whatever song is on his mind. Well, not entirely. Because there is no song that can express the kind of emptiness he feels inside every day since he let Kurt go.

**Picture perfect memories, **

**Scattered all around the floor.**

**Reaching for the phone cause, **

**I can't fight it any more.**

Kurt gets his phone out, but he doesn't know who to call.

So he calls the one person who he knows will always answer his calls for help.

**And I wonder if I ever cross your mind.**

**For me it happens all the time.**

Everyday he thinks of him.

Everyday he thinks it should be the last time he thinks about him.

Everyday it isn't.

The phone rings once, twice, three times before someone finally answers.

**It's a quarter after one, **

**I'm all alone and I need you now.**

"_Hello, this is Blaine Anderson speaking."_

**I said I wouldn't call **

**But I lost all control and I need you now.**

"_Blaine?"_

**And I don't know how I can do without, **

**I just need you now.**

"_Kurt?"_

**Another shot of whiskey can't stop looking at the door.**

**Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before.**

"_Blaine…"_

_It was him. He still didn't change his number. _

_His voice hadn't changed._

_He was still the same._

**And I wonder if I ever cross your mind.**

**For me it happens all the time.**

"_Kurt?"_

_There was something in his voice. Was it…_

_Hope?_

**It's a quarter after one, **

**I'm a little drunk and I need you now.**

**I said I wouldn't call **

**But I lost all control and I need you now.**

"_I don't know where I am and I'm scared…"_

**And I don't know how I can do without, **

**I just need you now.**

"_What about Elliot?" _

_There was no hate in his voice. No disdain. It was just a question. _

_Except it was so much more than that. _

**I guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all.**

"_We had a fight. I ran out of the apartment."_

**It's a quarter after one, **

**I'm all alone and I need you now.**

"_Kurt?"_

_There it was again. It was something he hadn't heard in a very long time. Something he hadn't felt in a very long time. _

"_Did you guys, you know… Break up?"_

**And I said I wouldn't call, **

**But I'm a little drunk and I need you now.**

**And I don't know how I can do without, **

**I just need you now.**

"_I-I… I think so…"_

_The realization hit him like a train. For a second he didn't know what to say or do. Even though he felt like someone had punched him in the gut, he didn't cry._

_He had only cried for Blaine. _

**I just need you now.**

"_Kurt? Are you still there? I'm coming to look for you now, okay?"_

**Oh baby I need you now…**


	5. Chapter 5

(Song: Make You Feel My Love – Adele)

Kurt woke up slumped against the same red brick wall he had fallen asleep against. The slightly sticky feeling on his cheeks told him it was raining.

"Kurt?"

The voice sounded distant, as if it didn't really existed, but only in his head. It could be because he had wanted to hear it so badly for the last three years and a half. But the rough fingertips lightly touching his face were definitely real. He slowly opened his eyes, only for them to meet two pools of hazel and green with flecks of gold at the edges. He got lost in the eyes he had missed for so long until the warmth of a calloused hand spread through his face. He leant into the familiar touch for a second, his eyes closing again, feeling gone with the familiarity of it all. One single tear escaped the mask he had put on for almost four years.

"Kurt..."

Blaine stood over the tall but slender figure lying against the hard brick wall of some office building in the middle of Manhattan. His skin was still as pale as three years ago. His face was still as angelic as three years ago.

He was still the same as he was all these years ago.

He had to think of the little talk they had had all that time ago, right before their first kiss. Both still so innocent, so naïve.

Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you forever.

Carefully, as if to not disturb him in his sleep, he touched his face where he saw it had little cuts.

"Kurt?"

The name tumbled off his lips before he could really think about it. But he had to be sure it was him.

And then he was.

The man against the wall opened his eyes slowly, and a sea pale blue with flecks of grey stared into his eyes.

It was him.

He reached out to his beautiful face and put his hand where it still fit perfectly around the curve of his jaw. The man closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, just like he had a million times before. The motion was so familiar yet so different from everything he had ever done. He saw one single tear slip from under his thick lashes.

"Kurt..."

Kurt opened his eyes again and tried not to lose himself in the sheer hope and compassion radiating off the face in front of him. The hand was still on the side of his face as he whispered the confirmation.

"Yes."

That was enough. It was an answer to all those unanswered questions from so long ago. It was an answer to all the unasked questions from the past, the present and the future.

He didn't even feel the sting as the rain trickled into the cuts on the side of his face where the glass of the picture had sliced through his skin. All he felt were the warm arms suddenly coming around him and enveloping him in a cocoon of safety, warmth, and love.

Love.

He felt something wet on his face, but he didn't know if it was the rain or his tears. It got through to him that this was where he had wanted to be all these years. All this time. All he really wanted was to be back in Blaine's arms. And now he was.

If only it were that simple.

Their limbs and their faces half frozen, they got up. They smiled a little until they remembered they weren't allowed to be so comfortable again just yet and then turned away from each other, blushing. They called a cab and the ride to Blaine's apartment was in silence but not the kind of heavy silence that makes you feel like something is pressing on your chest, no. It was the kind of comfortable silence they used to sit in for hours, where just knowing that the other was there was enough to make words unnecessary.

Blaine opened the door to his apartment and stood a bit awkwardly to the side before Kurt decided to come in.

"Make yourself at home."

Kurt stepped through the door and just stood in the living room for a while, as the realization sank in.

And then he just collapsed on the beige carpet, sobbing.

The next second Blaine was there again, hugging him tightly, hushing and comforting him.

He didn't care that his shirt would get ruined, it didn't matter if his hair would look hideous or that his face would look red and blotchy.

Because he had Blaine back.

He didn't remember falling asleep and he most definitely didn't remember changing into a Dalton T-shirt that was too big and sweatpants. He woke up in the large bed, the under a pile of duvets and pillows. He smiled a little because he was lying in a cocoon that smelt completely of _Blaine._

It was a musky, sweet scent, one he had never forgotten.

From the living room, the smell of coffee drifted into the small bedroom, together with a melody he didn't quite recognize. Blaine's voice sounded just as clear as the first time he'd heard it, on those stairs in Dalton Academy.

He got out of the bed and cautiously made his way over to the door. He leaned his against the doorframe as he stood there. The t-shirt slipped off one of his shoulders and Kurt thought back of the times when Blaine had caressed that same shoulder. He'd always had had something for Kurt's shoulders. He smiled and kept listening, somehow feeling as if he intruded something personal, something he shouldn't have heard.

But he heard. So he listened.

_When the rain is blowing in your face _

_And the whole world is on your case _

_I could offer you a warm embrace _

_To make you feel my love _

He sat at the small piano in the corner, the only piece of furniture he had brought from his parents' home. He looked like he was mindlessly playing, his fingers dancing over the keys like they had always done. Though it didn't seem as fluent as it did three years ago, as if it had been a long time since he had played.

_When the evening shadows and the stars appear _

_And there is no one there to dry your tears _

_I could hold you for a million years _

_To make you feel my love. _

Blaine had to think back to that first day, when the boy without the uniform had stopped him on the stairs. When they sat down for coffee and the terrible spy started crying over the coffee he had offered him because he got bullied so badly at his current school. When all he really wanted to do was hold him forever and never let him go, so no one could hurt that perfect human being. And then, merely seven years later, he had hurt him himself.

_I know you haven't made your mind up yet _

_But I would never do you wrong _

_I've known it from the moment that we met_

_No doubt in my mind where you belong _

He thought back of that first kiss, those first hesitant touches, their first time, and how right it had all felt. Nothing like the men he had slept or kissed with after the break-up. How wrong it had felt to let him just walk out of that door.

And how right it had felt to hold him in his arms again.

_I'd go hungry I'd go black and blue _

_I'd go crawling down the avenue _

_No there's nothing that I wouldn't do _

_To make you feel my love _

It was right when he sang this line that he noticed the slender figure in too big a t-shirt and sweatpants leaning against the doorframe. But he didn't stop playing. He wanted him to hear this; he wanted him to _know _this.

_The storms are raging on the rolling sea _

_And on the highway of regret _

_The winds of change are blowing wild and free _

_You ain't seen nothing like me yet _

Kurt slowly stepped out onto the fuzzy beige carpet and made his way over to the piano. Cautiously, as if to not disturb the man playing. He didn't know he was already noticed. He slid onto the piano bench next to him and rested his head on his shoulder. Blaine looked down on him and smiled a little, as if to make sure he knew the following lines were just for him.

And he meant them with all of his heart and soul.

_I could make you happy _

_Make your dreams come true _

_Nothing that I wouldn't do _

_Go to the ends of the earth for you _

_To make you feel my love _

Kurt closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of the man he had missed for so long. He felt the love almost radiating from the body next to him. He felt the weight of Blaine's head resting on his and he opened his eyes when he realized he had stopped playing. Blaine just took his hand and started playing with the ring still on his ring finger. He whisper-sang the last line while staring off into the distance and still playing with Kurt's, no, Elliot's ring.

_To make you feel my love_

Kurt lifted his head and looked into the green and hazel eyes staring back.

Blaine looked back to the glasz eyes.

Just like the first time, his eyes flicked to his lips, before returning to his eyes. They were mere inches apart, Kurt could smell the cinnamon gum on Blaine's breath and all he could wonder was: 'does he still eat that stuff?' before Blaine closed the distance.

For one moment, either one of them tensed up, before they both melted into each other.

For one moment, nothing mattered but their lips touching and moving against one another.

For one moment, they were happy again, on that piano bench in an apartment in the middle of New York City, looking out over Central Park.

For one moment, only the present mattered, not the past, not the future.

Because no one, not one person in the whole world could take away what they had right that moment.

Because, for one moment, they had each other back.

**A/N: I don't really know if I'll still continue as I have to work on Peacock too, but I'll see. **

**Also, please review, as reviews make it easier for Lord Tubbington to stop smoking.**

**Thank you. **

**-x- **


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Neither one of them wanted to pull away, but with the rate their hearts were beating, they needed oxygen pretty quickly. The rain was pouring down steadily outside but everything seemed a little less grey than before.

They spent the rest of the day getting to know each other again, because 5 years is a long time and a lot of things can change.

They went for coffee again, a medium drip and a Grande hazelnut latte. When Blaine first asked him about it, Kurt had smiled a little sadly and admitted that his standard grande nonfat mocha reminded him of the past too much. Blaine had just smiled and taken his hand, rubbing slow circles on it with his thumb. Kurt loved being able to wake up in those strong arms again. Blaine loved being able to wake up holding someone again.

Kurt proposed on a beautiful fall day in October, in Central park, with the crowd around them chanting and shouting as Blaine said yes. The marriage took place in august, with a lot of friends, flowers, shy glances and stolen kisses.

Every Valentine they slept in, went to brunch at a small place they discovered in the first year they were in the city, had coffee and one of those cute cupid cookies, to share. They took a walk around the city, laughing at the tacky decorations and the cheesy love songs, and when they got home, they just watched Kurt's entire collection of Broadway Musicals while cuddling on the couch.

Every Thanksgiving, they woke up at seven, cuddled until eight, had sex until nine thirty and then decided that maybe they should get going for the day. They spent the whole day in the kitchen; to have flour fights and tickle fights as much as to cook for the Hummel-Hudsons who came the evening. Everyone squeezed into the tiny apartment and it was cozy and homely and perfect.

Every Christmas, they slept in, exchanged presents, got coffee and one of those cute snowflake cookies, to share. They took a walk in Central Park and spent the rest of the day cuddling in front of the small heater, wrapped up in a dozen of blankets and each other.

Every New Year they didn't sleep at all, got drunk of cheap champagne, watched the ball drop, shared a new years kiss, and had sex until the neighbors complained from the sound of headboards slamming into the wall (even though Kurt still insisted on calling it 'making love')

And the other days?

Well, the other days, they were just plain happy.


End file.
